


If Ever I Would Leave You

by DearestLizzie



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-09
Updated: 2014-04-09
Packaged: 2018-01-18 18:17:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1437979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DearestLizzie/pseuds/DearestLizzie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Neil's death, Emma has to get away from the overwhelming sympathy of her parents and friends. She goes for a walk and ends up meeting a mourning Killian. Can they comfort each other in their grief? Comfort, angst, very Captain Swan. Eventual romance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

            Emma couldn’t stay in her parents’ loft anymore. The heaviness of mourning, of sadness was too much. Henry was asleep and wouldn’t miss her. And she couldn’t be the focus of everyone’s attention anymore, well-intentioned though it was. The sad side glances and understanding touches on her shoulder suddenly all became too much. She grabbed a jacket and made her way to the door, ignoring Mary Margaret’s concerned questioning and David’s worried stare. She found herself almost running down the building’s stairs and burst from the door, gasping as her lungs frantically drew in the cool, fresh air. Emma bent, her hands resting on her knees, and she closed her eyes, allowing herself a few moments to relish the silence. She stood slowly and just started walking.

            Emma wandered, no knowledge of where her feet were carrying her, and let her mind drift back to those last moments with Neil. Her heart clenched at the memory of Neil in her arms, his weight heavy against her breast, as he clung to those precious last minutes with her and his father. In its way, it had been beautiful. Neil hadn’t been alone. He had been held, comforted. And they had finally been given the chance to say goodbye. Emma dashed away a lone tear as it trickled down her cheek. She hadn’t been able to let Neil go after he had deserted her or after he had fallen through the portal. There had been no opportunity for forgiveness, for those last words of healing and farewell. As painful as losing him was, at least she had that.

            The soft sounds of music broke through her reverie and Emma looked up in surprise to find that she was standing outside of Granny’s. Emma found herself walking up to the door without quite knowing why. She had just left an apartment full of people. She needed time to herself, just to catch her breath, but felt compelled to go into the diner. She hesitated for a moment, her hand on the doorknob, but forced herself to pull it open and pass through. Emma was assailed with the familiar smells of coffee and cooking grease. The booths were empty, the counter stools bare except for one lone figure at the far end of the diner. Emma felt her breath catch in her throat as she took in the sight of the hunched figure in black. Hook. Though she hadn’t made a sound, Hook’s head snapped up and his brilliantly blue eyes met hers. Emma felt the pain radiating from him like a blow to her chest. Her hands clenched in reaction and she walked over slowly, sitting beside him.

            They sat in silence for long moments until Hook finally spoke, his voice rough with emotion. “What are you doing here, Swan?” he asked softly. “Thought you’d be with your family.”

            Emma shrugged, her eyes trained on the countertop. “I couldn’t stay,” she replied. “I had to . . . get away from everyone else’s feelings, if that makes any sense. I didn’t feel like I could deal with my own with so many other people around.”

            Hook nodded and glanced over at her. “It makes sense,” he acknowledged. “But how did you end up here?”

            “I don’t really know,” Emma said, confusion in her voice. “I was just walking and when I looked up, I was here. I wasn’t going to come in, but . . . I just . . . felt like I had to.” Emma finally looked over at Hook, her eyes raking over him, taking in his pallor and the slump to his shoulders, the way his hand was fisted on the countertop. She felt her heart break a little at the sight and slowly reached out to cover his hand with hers. Hooks hand jerked under hers before he quickly turned it over and tightly gripped her fingers.

            “I know I don’t have the right to feel as though I’ve lost something,” he began, speaking so softly that Emma had to lean in to hear him. “Bae and I . . .” his voice broke off and his eyes slid closed as he exhaled sharply. “We hadn’t been what you’d call close in a long time.” Hook looked over at Emma and she bit her lip at the depths of pain she saw in his eyes. “But for a little while, he was . . . my second chance,” he whispered. “My second chance and my greatest failure. When I handed him over to Pan, I betrayed him, his mother, and the life that we had hoped to have together.” His hand grasped convulsively on hers and his face contorted. “I lost myself to darkness when I lost Baelfire,” he admitted tightly, his voice a harsh whisper. “And then, after all of that betrayal, I let him walk out of that hospital to his death. I have no right to mourn someone I repeatedly let down so terribly.”

            Emma felt tears well in her eyes at the sadness and anger she heard in his voice but blinked them away. “Hoo . . .” she paused, that moniker suddenly sounding wrong on her lips. “Killian,” she began again, her resolve almost crumbling at the way his head whipped around at his name, incredulity on his face. “I’m not going to say that the past doesn’t matter. My history with Neil is proof of that. But what matters more than how things used to be is how things end up and if the people we care about know how we feel.” She clasped his hand in both of hers, her fingers gently caressing his knuckles. “I know you must have talked at the hospital,” Emma said gently. “You never would have let him past you without a good reason.”

            Killian nodded slowly, his brow furrowed. “We did talk,” he replied. “He was standing before me, arguing with me to let him leave and save his son, and all I could see was . . .’ his voice broke but he swallowed thickly and went on, ‘the boy he had been. So happy and optimistic, following me around the Jolly with his never-ending questions.” He shook his head sharply, a lone tear falling to the countertop. "How could I deny him the chance to save his boy when . . . I hadn't bothered to save him." Killian pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes closed, and suddenly laughed softly. “I don’t know which of us was more surprised when I embraced him. I like to think we had perhaps started down the road of forgiveness.”

            Emma released a shuddering breath and passed a hand over her face, surprised to find it wet with tears. “I think you were, too,” she whispered. “And that’s what you have to remember, Killian,” she insisted. “When you care about someone, you have every right to mourn what you lost. Or what could have been.”

            Killian sat in silence for a moment and then, slowly, raised their clasped hands and gently pressed his lips to her fingers. “Thank you, Emma,” he murmured.

            They sat in silence until someone pushed the diner door open and the sacredness of the place was broken. Killian straightened his shoulders and quickly wiped his eyes on his sleeve. “Come on, love,” he said quietly. “I’ll walk you home.”

            “No,” Emma replied, rising to stand next to him. “I . . . can’t go home right now.” She looked up at him, green eyes clinging to blue. “Will you walk with me for a bit?”

            Killian looked at her for a long moment and then extended his arm, placing her hand in his bent elbow and covering her hand  with his. “Of course, love,” he replied. “For as long as you wish”.


	2. Chapter 2

            Emma turned over and buried her face in her pillow, her eyes tightly shut against the brightness of the sun flooding through the window. She stretched and her brow wrinkled in confusion as she realized that she had gone to bed in her clothes. Suddenly the previous evening came flooding back and her eyes snapped open. Not her bed. Not her room. Her eyes snapped wide when she saw that she was not alone. Killian was asleep in the small easy chair next to the bed, his head resting against the back and his face relaxed in repose. Emma felt herself blush as she flopped back onto the bed. Oh, Lord. Mary Margaret and David would be wondering where she was. She bolted upright. Henry! She scrambled from the bedding and began searching for her shoes.

            “Emma?”

            Emma, half under the bed, jerked up and banged her head on the underside of the bed frame. Sliding out, she pushed her hair out of her face and rose to her knees. “I’m sorry I woke you,” she rushed, “but I can’t find my shoes, and Henry will be wondering where I am, and I’m sure Mary Margaret is having David drag the harbor by now, and . . .”

            “Emma, love, take a breath,” Killian said gently as he ran his hands through his sleep-mussed hair. “It’s barely seven o’clock, I’m sure your lad is still asleep, and I called David last night to let him know where you were.”

            Emma gaped at him for a moment, then, “You told my father that I was sleeping over with you?” she exclaimed, a blush staining her cheeks.

            “Of course not, love,” he replied with a smile. “Had I done that, your dear Papa would have been over here in a trice and holding a blade to my throat. I told him that you had the bed and I, of course, took the chair. He seemed satisfied with that.”

            Emma stared blankly and then a smile ghosted across her face. “Thank you, Killian,” she told him softly.

            “It was just a phone call, love.”

            “No,” Emma protested as she sat on the edge of the bed. “Thank you for last night. I thought I wanted to be alone but . . . it helped to be with you.”

            “You’re welcome,” Killian replied softly. “It was the same for me. For the first time . . .” he broke off, shrugged as though uncertain of what he would say next.

            “Yes?”

            Killian raised his eyes to hers and Emma felt as though he had reached out and touched her. “For the first time in a long time, I knew that I wasn’t alone in my grief. When I lost Liam, then Milah, and then Baelfire in Neverland, there was . . . no one.”

            “Killian, I just . . . I don’t know what to say,” Emma admitted, her hands gripping the edge of the mattress.

            The pirate shook his head. “It’s alright, love,” he assured her. “Sometimes you don’t need to say anything.” He leaned to the side and picked up her shoes, holding them out to her. “Didn’t think you’d be too comfortable in these,” he smiled.

            “Thanks,” Emma replied as she slipped them on. “Are you ready to go?”

            “Go?” Killian asked in surprise. “Go where?”

            “With me, of course,” Emma answered as she stood and ran her hands through her tumbled curls.

            “Love, I don’t know if I’d be the most welcome face at your parents’ home today. There are bound to be visitors throughout the day and some might blame me for Bae’s death.”

            “No one blames you, Killian,” Emma protested. “And . . . it would mean a lot to me if you were there. If you feel uncomfortable or if anyone gives you any trouble, we’ll leave.”

            “We?”

            “Yeah,” Emma replied gently. “We.”

            Killian smiled and stood. “Let’s go.”

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            Emma pushed open the door of her parents’ apartment and Mary Margaret immediately rushed over to her. “Emma, honey, are you alright? I was so worried when . . .” She broke off when she saw Killian enter the apartment right behind her daughter.

            “I’m fine,” Emma assured her as she hung up her jacket. “Didn’t David tell you that Killian called him last night?”

            “Yes,” Mary Margaret replied slowly, her eyes darting between her daughter and the pirate. “But I was still wishing you were home with us.”

            “Snow, she’s fine,” David assured her as he came out of the kitchen to join them. He held out his hand to Killian and, after a brief moment of surprise, Killian reached out and shook the Prince’s hand. “Thank you for taking care of her, Killian,” David said earnestly. “I was glad to know that she was with someone we could trust.”

            Killian blinked, astonished by such a statement of confidence. “You’re welcome,” he finally replied. “Actually, I think we took care of each other.”

            “Is Henry up yet?” Emma asked, her voice filling the sudden silence. “I was worried that I wouldn’t get home in time.”

            “He’s still out like a light,” Mary Margaret told her, placing a soothing hand on her daughter’s arm. “Why don’t you both come into the kitchen and have some breakfast? I’m afraid it’s going to be a long day.”

            The four made their way into the kitchen and Mary Margaret started pulling ingredients out of the refrigerator. “Oh, Mary Margaret, just coffee for me, please,” Emma protested but Mary Margaret shook her head. “No, Emma, you’re going to need more than that. I’ll just make something simple. Scrambled eggs, bacon and toast. Alright?”

            Emma was about to object when Killian put a hand on her arm and leaned in to whisper, “Let her do this, love. She needs to take care of you right now.”

            Emma sighed, turning her head to meet his eyes, and nodded. “Thanks, Mom,” she said, her eyes never leaving Killian’s. “That sounds great.”

            Mary Margaret’s breath hitched a little when she heard Emma call her “Mom” but she managed to smile and nod as she continued to bustle about the kitchen. David, meanwhile, sat quietly at the table, nursing his coffee and watching the interaction between his daughter and the pirate with narrowed eyes. Something had changed, he realized. He wasn’t quite sure how he felt about it but if it gave Emma a little peace in the midst of so much sadness and upheaval, he wasn’t going to do anything to disrupt it.

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            “Gold wants to have the funeral this afternoon,” David said gently as Emma was helping to clean up the breakfast dishes. Her shoulders stiffened briefly before she turned, a towel in her hand. “So soon?” she asked, her eyebrows raised.

            David nodded as he finished stacking the clean plates in the cabinet. “He thinks the sooner that Neil is put to rest, the sooner everyone can focus on bringing down the Witch.”

            Emma’s inhaled deeply, her breath hitching slightly. “I suppose he’s right,” she replied softly. “I just . . . hadn’t let myself think about it, I guess.”

            “Emma, last night . . .”

  
            Emma cut him off. “Please, David, don’t start about Killian. Nothing happened and I really needed . . .”

            “Emma, honey, I’m not going to say anything about Killian,” David assured her, his hands resting gently on her shoulders. “I was just going to say that, last night, when he called, I was so relieved that you were able to find someone who could help you. It’s hard for me to say this,” he admitted, a slight grimace on his face, “but I think he was one of the only people in town who could have really understood what you’re going through. If he can make any of this easier on you, he has my full support.”

            Emma gazed at David in astonishment before flinging her arms around him and burying her face in his shoulder. “Thank you, Dad,” she whispered, her voice choked with tears.

            “Oh, honey,” David murmured, his hand cradling her head as he embraced her. “You know that I’m always on your side, no matter what.”

**Author's Note:**

> I decided I couldn't just read fanfics about this couple anymore, I had to write them, too. I just love Captain Swan - SO MANY FEELS!! This is my very first OUAT fanfic and I really hope you enjoy it. I'd love to get feedback on it, so if you could take a moment to leave a review, I would appreciate it!


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